Power Rangers: Shattered Hourglass
by Michelle the Editor
Summary: A parasitic race called the Akra has invaded reality, manipulating, infiltrating and possessing Power Rangers across the timeline. The only force equipped to fight them has just been defeated, their members scattered through time and space. Now, only a few misfits with morphers stand between them and total victory.
1. Chapter 1: Time Fractures, Part 1

Location: Hourglass Facility, Canada

Date: July 3rd, 2010

"Warning. Force shield generators damaged. Shield failure imminent."

The masculine, robotic voice echoed through chrome-and-white hallways, its serenity contrasting with the chaos going on around it. Men and women, some human but many not, were dashing from room to room frantically. Some, wearing white lab coats and safety gear, carried equipment, while others in military uniforms ran the other way with weapons. All of them wore the same symbol, an hourglass, emblazoned on their clothes and gear.

The elevator at the end of the hall opened its doors, and a Power Ranger stumbled out. His blue-and-bronze suit was blackened and torn, and he'd lost a glove; his hand streaked the walls with soot and blood. At the sight of him, the nearest technicians dropped what they were doing and ran over, helping him stand.

"We can walk," the Ranger assured them. "We simply need to report—"

"Nonsense," one woman told him. "We'll get you to the command center. The elevators are starting to shut down, and whatever your species is I don't think you're gonna be able to climb three flights of stairs in this condition."

The Ranger chuckled weakly. "You have a point."

"Shield generators one, two, five and six down. Force shield breached," the robotic voice repeated, as the cluster of people entered the fire escape and struggled up the stairs. An explosion echoed through the building, and the lights flickered. One of the technicians broke away from the others to open the door, and they all spilled into the command center.

The room was oxagonal and covered with computers, each manned by its own technicians. Screens showed the battles going on around the building, and now entering its lower floors. The soldiers were working with professional speed, mowing down the invaders with gunfire, but the lines were beginning to break.

"Zai!" A nonhuman woman who looked rather like a bipedal, scaly dog hurried over to the newcomers. She helped Zai to a seat on a nearby bench. To the men and women who'd helped him she said, "Thank you, now go to your evacuation points, there's very little time."

"Oh, the irony of that," Zai muttered.

"You've lost a lot of blood, you need to rest," the woman told him.

"Rest where? The Akra are going to be inside within the hour," Zai replied. "All we can do now is fight or flee."

"We haven't lost yet," the woman retorted, but Zai shook his head.

"Isinia, we're beyond the point of no return. No matter what happens from this point onward, Hourglass Facility has fallen."

A loud bang echoed through the speakers, making Isinia jump. On the screens behind her, Akra were breaking through both the facility's defenses and the walls. The entire building trembled as another explosion rocked its base.

"First floor defenses breached," the security system announced. "Second floor defenses breached."

"This isn't the end," Isinia insisted.

"No, not for you," Zai said. He nodded toward the portal. "You've got somewhere to be, where the Akra won't dare chase you. There are a few points in the timeline they actually don't want to change."

"Emperor Gruumm's ship," Isinia said reluctantly.

Zai demorphed, revealing a man who was probably pale on a normal day, but now looked almost grey from blood loss. He lifted a necklace over his head and held it out to Isinia. A bronze gyroscope dangled from it, and in the middle ring a little hourglass full of blue sand glinted.

"Take it—"

"Zai, don't," Isinia snapped. She closed a paw over his hand, pushing the necklace back towards him, but he resisted. A few more people made their way into the room, but even the technicians were heading for the portals. The screens started going dark.

Zai's expression was intent. _"Take it._ We trust you to find someone who is worthy. We will safeguard the portals as long as possible. We would rather face the Akra on our own terms, without letting our powers fall into their hands."

Isinia hesitated. The lights flickered around them. Finally, she took the necklace, backing up. Zai gave a slight nod, and with a grimace, abruptly split into three versions of himself, all identically wounded. Turning away, Isinia ran through the nearest portal, one of the last to do so.

Something struck the far door hard enough to dent it inwards. Rising, the three Zais moved to the various remaining controls. They started switching things off, ripping out wires, even breaking the equipment. Nothing else would fall into the Akra's hands. One by one, the portals vanished.

Three more blows knocked the door inwards, and a white-clad Ranger stepped through the doorway. The figure was female, and though the design vaguely resembled the original Mighty Morphin' Green Ranger, the helmet was based on a unicorn's head rather than a dragon's. The three Zais looked up as she walked in.

"Can't hold yourself together, huh, Triforian?" She sounded like an amused teenager more than anything else, certainly not a fearsome general. "You know, if you let me have that morpher of yours, we can fix that hole in your side."

"That is not an option," one of the Zais replied, from where he stood next to a ruined console. "I'm afraid you'll have to content yourself with this base. The Rangers, and all of their powers, will keep fighting you and your creatinons no matter where, or when, you attack."

The cheerfulness vanished from the White Ranger's voice. "Fine." She raised her hand, and a sword materialized in a flash of white light. Her next movements were almost too quick to see—in a swirl of silver and white, she moved around the room, finally halting at the far end with sword extended back behind her. One by one, the three Zais collapsed, barely making a sound. The White Ranger didn't even look back; sheathing her sword she reached out and touched the place where the portals had been, tracing a gloved hand over the wall.

"One down, three to go," she said quietly. "Don't worry, lost little Rangers. We'll bring you all together again very soon."

* * *

Location: The Desert

Time: Unknown

A small train of military trucks wound through the desert, looking like a line of black ants against the yellow-brown, stained earth. Although they were alone, the soldiers in each vehicle watched the sky anxiously. For now things were quiet, but it was only a brief respite in the war—or more accurately, the extermination. The forces of the computer virus Venjix had already taken control of most of the globe, and now all the survivors could do was chase transmissions from a place called Corinth, which claimed to be a safe haven.

The truck in the rear of the caravan went over a rock, and inside a man with a bandage over his eyes bumped his head with a thud.

"Bloody hell! Ow..." He slumped back in his seat, holding his head. His hair was sandy-blond, the same color as the stubble on his face, though like everyone and everything else in the truck it was dusty. The soldier beside him, Asian and stocky, put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. He looked to be the older of the pair, in his mid-twenties, while the blond was probably not even twenty yet.

"Woke you up, Brooks?" He had an Estuary accent, the kind that bordered on Cockney but was a little softer. Both he and the rest of the men in the truck wore the uniforms of the British air force.

"Yeah, yeah." Brooks sat up straighter, leaning a little on his friend for balance. "Thanks, Hsien. Have any water you can spare?"

"A drop or two," Hsien said, putting a canteen into Brooks's hands. Brooks took a couple of careful sips, though he clearly wanted to gulp it down. The canvas roof flapped in the wind, its shadow shifting as the truck began to turn. Finishing, Brooks slumped back in his seat.

"You're sure that wasn't piss?"

Hsien let out a laugh and took back the canteen. "What exactly does it taste like to you?"

Brooks sighed, his jokey mood fading. "We're doing this again?"

"You're going to need to practice with your other senses. That's what the medic said," Hsien said.

"The medic also said he wasn't sure if my eyes were going to get better," Brooks retorted. "Even if I don't heal up right, I'm not going to start licking everything to identify it."

"Just try, please."

The truck jolted again, making everything inside sway a little. Resigned, Brooks reached up with one hand. "Lemme have another taste."

Hsien gave him the canteen, and Brooks tasted a mouthful. He pursed up his lips, swallowed, and gave a little nod.

"Yep, that's piss all right."

Hsien laughed out loud. "It's not that funny," Brooks said, his face still wrinkled up.

"It's water, Brooks, and probably the cleanest you'll get this side o—" Hsien was interrupted by a deafening bang. The truck swerved left hard, throwing Brooks and some of the other soldiers out of their seats. Hsien grabbed the canvas and managed to keep his balance. Grabbing his gun, he leaned out the back to see what was happening.

"What the—"

Brooks had both arms out, trying to find something solid to grasp. His hand brushed a seat and he grabbed it, scrambling over and clinging to it as the truck lurched down the road. The rapid pops and bangs of gunfire already sounded out elsewhere in the caravan. Men and women were shouting, mostly orders.

"Hsien?" Brooks called, clearly trying not to sound as scared as he felt.

Hsien was gaping up at something in the sky overhead. It wasn't Venjix drones this time, nor was it a plane from an Earth military. A large, pearly-white disc hovered above them, outside the range of their guns but close enough to return fire. Blue-white balls of energy were shooting out of a ring of small holes in the bottom center of the disc, each impacting the ground with a loud crack-thump. One glanced a truck, knocking it sideways. Men and supplies spilled out the back, scrambling for cover.

Brooks tried to stand up as Hsien moved back into his seat, and Hsien quickly caught his arm, steering him into a seat.

"Stay down, airman, we're under attack."

"How many? Are they flying? We can't outrun them here—"

"Be quiet and stay down!" Hsien ordered him, almost shouting. An energy ball hit the ground behind them with a blinding flash, throwing everyone forward. Brooks hit his head on a metal crate, and the impact sent a new wave of pain through the wounds on his face.

The next thing he knew, he was lying in a pile of tarps and boxes in an unmoving truck. Brooks tried to sit up, but he wasn't entirely sure which way was up. He tried to focus on his other senses, like Hsien had reminded him to do, try to understand what was going on, but his head was pounding painfully. Feeling around, Brooks crawled out of the pile, finding his way back onto what he thought was the floor. He caught his breath.

He could still hear yelling, but the explosions had stopped. The air smelled like dust, smoke and gasoline. The truck's engine was silent, and it felt like it was listing to one corner, as if it had lost a wheel or something. He still tasted the water in his mouth, which truthfully tasted more like rust than anything else, but the sharp tinge of gasoline was there too. He needed to get out of the truck. Only he didn't know which direction "out" was.

Brooks began feeling around with shaky hands. Someone yelled outside, something about "not taking us!" and there was a brief burst of gunfire. It was the silence that followed that made Brooks nervous. The noises outside didn't match that whirring, nightmarish sound Venjix's Grinders made, so what exactly was out there? He hadn't seen the disc or the energy blasts, only had the suspicion that this new threat wasn't human.

His fingers brushed hot metal and Brooks flinched, realizing what it was a second later. A single neat patch of warmth in the middle of otherwise cool metal; the sun had been shining here recently, which meant he was near the back of the truck. Brooks crawled forward, feeling sunlight on his head and shoulders as he scrambled down the sloping floor. His extended hand met sand, and gravity soon got him the rest of the way out.

Outside, Brooks noticed an uncanny humming noise that seemed to be coming from everywhere around him. He tilted his head back, unknowingly looking up at the white disc.

"There's another one!" The female voice was unfamiliar, sounded American maybe. A woman in white was approaching him, and hearing her footsteps, Brooks recoiled. She stood in sharp contrast to her surroundings, almost uncannily perfect, from her uniform to her hair to her makeup. She touched the earpiece in her left ear and spoke.

"We've got one more down here." There was a pause as whoever was on the other end of the call replied. Her eyes narrowed and she looked Brooks up and down. "Maybe, but there's a bandage over his face, no idea how badly he's messed up beneath that."

"Who's there?" Brooks called.

"Sure. If you don't like him you can just dump him in the Energy Room with the others." The woman said into her earpiece, and held up something small that looked like a laser pointer. She clicked the button on the side, and a glowing blue portal opened up beneath Brooks, who dropped with a yell. It closed after him, and the woman smiled. "He's all yours."

* * *

Location: Mariner Bay, California

Date: June 10th, 2000

Carter Grayson, Red Lightspeed Ranger, was alone in the base galley, drinking coffee—or at least holding a cup of coffee. It was starting to go cold. It was past midnight, but it seemed he had something on his mind. There was a pensive look on his face, like he was trying to remember something but couldn't figure out what. The door opened and he looked up sharply as a girl entered the room. She looked to be about his age, was at least partly Asian, and wore a Lightspeed jacket like his, although its shield sigil was purple and had a number 6.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know anyone else was up," she said, halting just inside the doorway. She smiled shyly at him, but Carter broke eye contact quickly.

"Hi Zanna." He finally noticed his coffee was cold and went to the sink to pour it out, turning his back on her. "Nobody but us and the night shift, as far as I know."

Zanna came further into the room, watching Carter, her eyes slightly narrowed. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine." He finally looked back. "How about you? Have you heard from Ryan?"

She sighed and shook her head. "No, nothing so far, but that's probably a good thing since we'd notice if the demons went after him. It's been tougher on Dad and Dana than me, though, since they actually remember him. I was three or four when...when they lost him the first time."

Zanna's expression saddened a little. She'd been there, at the car crash that forced Captain Mitchell into a deal with the devil to save Ryan's life—in the other car, the one that had caused the collision. Her parents hadn't survived, so the Mitchells had taken her in. It was something she always said she didn't like to talk about, but it came up a lot anyway.

Carter nodded, and got started making a new pot of coffee, still not looking at Zanna. She followed his movements for a bit, then approached, coming right up beside him.

"Carter, something's bothering you, I can tell. What is it?"

"Nothing," he said, but she put a hand on his arm and gazed earnestly into his eyes.

"You've been acting weird around me for weeks now. We're a team, you can tell me."

"It's just—" Carter stopped, gathered his thoughts. "Something doesn't feel right. I don't know what it is, but sometimes I just remember things that don't make sense. Stuff like Kelsey being the one who made friends with that astronaut instead of you, or forming the Megazord with only five Zords."

Zanna managed a brief smile despite the obvious discomfort on her face. "Maybe you should stop drinking coffee so late at night and get some sleep, huh?"

"It's not like that," Carter said. "Doctor Fairweather's noticed it too, she was talking to me about it earlier."

"Was she?" Zanna's smile was like a cheap plastic mask, bright and mildly unsettling. "Huh, guess I'll have to ask her too."

"I'm not crazy," Carter insisted. "I've checked the blueprints; your Zord is almost exactly like Dana's even though all of the other ones are unique. The Megazord could form without yours. It's like—"

"Like it was designed to work without me," Zanna interrupted. She looked serious again, almost sad. "Like someone in charge wanted to be able to take me out of the fight and keep the rest of the team running, because he couldn't lose all of his children."

Carter hesitated, and she put a hand on his. There was a brief flicker of gold in her eyes, and a faint ripple of light zipping down her body through what looked like nerves or veins, webbing across her skin. As it reached her fingertips, Carter visibly relaxed.

"You just really wanted to be part of this fight, I guess?" He asked, half-smiling.

"Oh, we argued for _years_ ," Zanna said, grinning genuinely this time. "He still threatens to take away my morpher sometimes, but I just remind him that I'm surrounded by people who'd do anything to keep me safe."

"He's not wrong."

Zanna flushed, and became shy again, withdrawing her hand and stepping back. "Seriously, though, you should give the caffeine a rest. The demons could attack any time now and we need you at full strength."

"Oh yeah? I'm not the one sneaking out of bed to talk to a boy," Carter teased her, making her giggle.

"Okay, okay, you've got me. But you're still up way past your bedtime and you'd better get some shuteye, or else." She waved goodbye as she left, and Carter waved back. He looked happier than he had when she'd walked in, even if there was something vacant in his stare now.

Zanna headed back down the hallway to her quarters, humming quietly. She didn't notice the open door nearby, or the person standing inside, in the shadows, watching. Reaching her own door she opened it up and headed inside, past the aquarium tank, the bookshelves and the window, right up to the bed. With a glance around the room, she sat down and reached underneath it, pulling out a wooden case closed with a combination lock. She plunked it and herself onto the bed and opened the lock. As she lifted the lid, a beam of golden light washed over her face, illuminating the room. Inside the box sat a glowing yellow cube, pulsing faintly.

"I knew it."

Zanna jumped up and slammed the box lid shut, shoving it behind herself. A brunette woman was standing in the doorway, her hand on the controls.

"Doctor Fairweather? Could—couldn't you have knocked?" She stammered.

"I could, but then you would have just hidden the box again, wouldn't you?" Fairweather said, entering the room. "I've been wanting to talk to you about that."

"You're not supposed to—"

"Supposed to know about it? Why not?" Doctor Fairweather asked. "What is it?"

"It's—I need it," Zanna said nervously.

"Why?" Doctor Fairweather's tone was gentle. "What is it for?"

"It's—I—wa—"

"You don't remember, do you? Don't panic, that's normal."

"The only time people say 'don't panic' is when there's definitely something to panic about," Zanna retorted. The yellow tendrils were starting to glow again, pulsing faster than before.

"Everyone's been having problems with their memories," Dr. Fairweather said. "Most of them center around you in one way or another. How you joined the team without having to meet all the requirements everyone else did, the way people start acting differently when you're around—"

"So this is my fault?" Zanna interrupted, her voice shriller than before. "What does that make me, a mole or something? This is crazy! What did I do to make you not trust me, Doc?"

"Nothing, it's not like that," Dr. Fairwather started to say, but Zanna wasn't finished.

"I've put my life on the line for you guys over and over, but now I don't belong just because other people have bad memories? Have you even bothered running this by my Dad, or do you already know he's going to drop it because there's no reason to treat me like a threat?"

"Okay, okay!" Dr. Fairweather put up both hands, finally silencing Zanna. The teenager was pink with rage. "One question, just one, and I'll leave you alone."

"...What?"

"What's your mother's name? Captain Mitchell's wife, what is her name?"

Zanna opened her mouth, and stopped. Her face changed, paling as she struggled for an answer to a question that should have been easy.

"Your memories of them were implanted, just like everyone else's memories of you, but the people responsible didn't know everything."

"I...I don't... _augh_!" She clutched suddenly at the back of her head, letting out a yell of pain. The tendrils blazed yellow. Dr. Fairweather dashed over to her, pulling what looked like a necklace out of the front of her shirt.

"Sands of Time, Rise Up!" She yelled, and was enveloped in a flash of bright green light. Zanna had fallen against the bed, still clutching her head, but she looked up sharply as she felt hands on her shoulders. She glimpsed her own reflection in the gleaming visor above her. A Power Ranger was holding her. She wore bright green, though the boots and gloves were white to match the front panel. Bronze accented the uniform, and glinted in the gun holster on her right hip.

"Hourglass," she breathed, and immediately looked confused.

"Just stay with me, Zanna," the Ranger said. She didn't sound like Dr. Fairweather anymore; her voice was huskier. "I'll get this thing off of you."

Zanna's gaze was fixed on her. Abruptly, gold energy shot through the tendrils. She arched her back and shoved the Green Ranger away, hard enough to knock her to the floor and break her grip. She sprang upright and smashed the box open with one fist, clamping her hand over the cube.

"An Hourglass Ranger is here!" She screamed, even though from the look on her face she had no idea what was happening to her. The Green Ranger picked herself up and raised a hand.

"Neural Net!" A green net materialized in her fist, the ends clattering on the floor. She raised, spun and swung it at Zanna as the girl wheeled on her, throwing up a hand. A yellow energy pulse exploded from her fingertips, blackening the far wall. The Green Ranger hurled herself just in time to avoid the blast. The weight of the net knocked her backwards onto the bed. As she struggled to free herself, she just had time to glimpse little silver and brass beacons blinking amid the fibers of the net before they all went off with a whoosh. Her entire body jolted and she went limp, the light going out of her body tendrils.

The Green Ranger dashed to the bed and checked Zanna's pulse. Apparently satisfied, she rolled her over onto her stomach and drew the gun from her belt. It looked like an old-fashioned flintlock revolver, but with a few gestures, the Green Ranger transformed it into a syringe. She flicked it like a nurse checking to see that the contents flowed clearly, then brushing aside the hair on the back of Zanna's neck, injected the yellow tendrils clustered there. Zanna flinched and groaned.

"It's okay, this will all be over soon," the Green Ranger said soothingly, withdrawing the needle.

"Damn straight it will," an unfamiliar male voice said from behind her. The Green Ranger just had time to look up before something struck her in the head, knocking her into the aquarium with a crash. A man in white stood over her. Red tendrils glowed through the skin of his hands and face, casting a bloody aura around him.

The Green Ranger scrambled to her feet, but there was a visible crack in her helmet, and she was unsteady on her feet. The newcomer advanced on her, raising his right fist. The tendrils spread, covering and breaking out of his skin to form a metallic gauntlet over his hand. It extended further to form a two-handed broadsword. He let the tip scrape across the floor, leaving a whitish scrape in the metal.

"Have you just been hiding here in Mariner Bay the whole time?" He asked. "Wow, that's pretty pathetic. At least the others caught a couple of Akra before going down. This is barely worth my time."

"Well, you can always leave if you want," the Green Ranger suggested, circling as he did.

The man looked like he was thinking about it, but then he shrugged. "Nah, Mom would be mad if I let you go."

He moved with inhuman speed, hauling back and striking down and across with his sword as the Green Ranger tried to duck. He hit the far wall, spun and charged back, striking faster than the human eye could follow. If the Green Ranger had any other weapons, she didn't have time to use them.

Zanna's eyes slid open as the Green Ranger collapsed to the floor, a few feet away from the bed. Blearily, she blinked and focused on the woman as her Ranger suit vanished. Without her suit or her disguise, she was a black-haired, fair-skinned woman in her forties or so, now battered and scorched from the fight. She looked up, meeting Zanna's gaze.

"Yup, barely worth my time," the man said, walking between the two. "Too bad. If you'd been more interesting maybe we could have recruited you, but I guess not all bad guys deserve redemption."

Zanna's eyes widened as he raised his sword. A dramatic swing overhead, and he brought it down with a crack like thunder. She flinched back at the blow, eyes squeezing shut. Blood mingled with the aquarium water puddling on the floor. The red light faded from his skin, and he turned around, sword and gauntlet vanishing back beneath his skin with an unnerving _shlhhhh_. Zanna kept her eyes closed as he looked down at her.

"Sorry for the interruption, but don't worry, we'll get you back here again in no time—literally!"


	2. Chapter 2: Time Fractures, Part 2

Location: Hourglass Facility, Canada

Date: July 29th, 2010

Zanna woke up sore, sluggish and confused. All she could see was a jumble of black, white and chrome. Her hair hung in dark tangles around her face, and when she tried to brush it back, she realized there were straps holding her arms down. It felt like she was on some sort of medical table, strapped in almost a crawling position—legs bent, arms forward, torso arched over a padded frame. She tried to push herself up, but moving made the skin on her back sting like the worst sunburn of her life.

"Owwww…."

There was a flurry of movement somewhere to her right. Zanna cranked her head around to see a redheaded woman in a white coat crouch down beside her. She flicked Zanna's hair aside and shined a little flashlight in her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" She asked. She had very crisp diction.

"Uh...what's happening?"

"My name is Doctor Rose. You've just been attacked by an Hourglass Ranger and separated from your Akra," the woman replied. "You're safe now, but your universe had to be wiped. We'll set you up with a new one as soon as you're ready."

Zanna frowned, gathering her still-hazy thoughts. "Hourglass Ranger...that lady with the Green Ranger suit?"

"Una Wallace, yes. Thanks to your warning we were able to send an agent in time to save you and neutralize her for good." Dr. Rose smiled briefly.

Zanna remembered the blood all over the floor and felt a pang of something like guilt. "She—she was kinda nice to me, though."

"While separating you from us and undoing all of your hard work creating that world," Dr. Rose replied, clicking off her flashlight. She stood and pulled up the back of Zanna's shirt, exposing her back to examination. Her touches were light and brief, but still made Zanna hiss in pain.

"The rash should fade in a few days," she said. "I'd offer you painkillers, but our supplies are limited."

"Oh, okay," Zanna said quietly. She wasn't really paying attention to the doctor, or even to the pain anymore. Her head was clearer now, and her memories were starting to come back. Her _real_ memories, not the life that had been made up for her when she joined the Lightspeed Rangers. Her parents hadn't died in a car crash at all; they lived in Albany and her Dad sold used cars. She'd been begging unsuccessfully to let her have one of them. In fact, she'd been rehearsing a new pitch when a woman in white leather appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her. After that things got chaotic and muddled and she wasn't sure she wanted to un-muddle them.

"Zanna?"

She realized belatedly that Dr. Rose had been talking and looked up again. "What?"

"How well you've adjusted. There were concerns that our recruited Hosts would become a threat if separated from their Akra. I'm glad to see that you understand."

"Uh...that's good," Zanna said, not understanding at all. Dr. Rose moved to a lab counter nearby, where she began fiddling with something under a magnifying glass. Zanna had to crane her neck to see around the room. It was large, but almost half of the space was filled with different kinds of lab equipment. It felt like being in a mad scientist's attic.

"Can—can you untie me, please? I mean, this is more comfortable than it probably looks, but I kinda want to be able to get up if I need to go to the bathroom or something."

Dr. Rose glanced back, took a moment to evaluate the request, and gave a nod. She unbuckled the straps and stepped back to let Zanna sit up, which she did, flipping her hair back. Her Lightspeed jacket was draped over a nearby chair, and she rose stiffly to get it.

Something nearby chimed and Dr. Rose flipped a switch on the desk, leaning in to respond. "Rose here."

"It's Sophie, can you come up to the portal chamber? I want a second opinion on some of these guys."

"Right away." She looked over her shoulder at Zanna. "There's a bathroom and shower just down the hall, and you can lie down on the examination table there if you're still feeling tired. Try not to touch anything."

"Got it."

With that assurance, Dr. Rose set aside her equipment and headed out the door. Zanna glimpsed a white corridor outside before it shut with a soft whoosh. She waited until she was sure Dr. Rose was gone, then went to the lab counter. Dr. Rose had only said not to touch; she hadn't mentioned looking.

Amid the various pieces of equipment sat three small objects, lined up in a row. Zanna recognized the first as the same necklace the Green Ranger had used to morph. Up close she could see that it was actually a small, bronze gyroscope on a chain. In the innermost ring was a little hourglass full of green sand. It looked like something she'd seen in a Harry Potter movie one time.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I didn't know they were going to kill you. I don't think you were a bad guy. Or a bad girl, I guess. I don't think I'm a bad guy either, but…"

Beside it was a little silvery device that looked like a laser pointer, but one end had five numbered disks all in a row, like a combination lock. Beside it lay a loop of what looked like a bronze cord. Being laid out like this made them look important, but Zanna had no idea what they actually were. She looked at the gyroscope again as if it could explain, and sighed.

"This is all really confusing."

From somewhere below, Zanna's ears picked up what almost sounded like a scream. Okay, that was less confusing. She might not be a real Ranger, but she could still help people. Zanna pocketed the gold wire and the combination laser pointer, looping the necklace chain around her neck. One hand on the little gyroscope—how did she activate it again? Sands of Time something?—she went looking for a way downstairs.

* * *

Brooks's head felt funny. Granted he was feverish, but this felt different, more like that weird place between dreaming and waking. He felt like he was sitting, but he couldn't be sure. His limbs felt heavy.

"Just relax and listen to me. Nothing else is important now."

The beautiful blonde woman and grassy meadow all around him were new too. It was almost unnervingly peaceful; birdsong in the trees, crickets in the grass, a bubbling brook somewhere nearby. The grass was still damp with dew. Of course, the most attention-grabbing thing was the woman herself. She looked like poetry—just looking at her made him, not a particularly romantic guy, start thinking of phrases like spun sunlight and summer breezes.

This was exceptionally odd given that the medics had told Brooks he'd never see again.

"Oh, I don't know," he mumbled. "I can think of a few important things to discuss. For instance, where are we and how did we get here?"

The blonde smiled reassuringly. "A safe place, one where Venjix can never hurt you. You're not dead though," she added quickly. "Just in a different reality."

"Call me paranoid, but I'm having trouble believing you. Again, where am I?"

"You are with the Akra. You are welcome here, to join us."

"Oh, better and better." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I've been invited to stay in the bean world."

The woman looked just a tiny bit less serene. "Akra, not okra."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know there was a distinction. See, I've never heard of 'Akra.'" He tried to move his arms, but they felt strangely heavy. "If we're so safe, I think we have time for an explanation. I'd really like to know how you fixed my eyes."

"That can come later. For now, rest," the blonde cooed, and the soldier felt a wave of strange calm wash over him. He was very tired, after all, and for once he didn't feel hungry or achey...which was what told him something was wrong. He needed to wake up. It was still hard to move, so he couldn't pinch himself, but maybe he could try something else. As the blonde continued to murmur reassurances at him, he poked his tongue out a little and bit down, hard. His head jerked forward and he shot awake, eyes snapping open.

The meadow, the brook, the birds and the woman were gone. He could see nothing. Not blackness, just nothing. Something detached from the back of his neck with a wet pop.

Breathing fast, Brooks ran through that mental checklist of senses that Hsien had been teaching him. He was upright, suspended in something dense that wrapped around his body and limbs, not tight but sturdy. Through his actual ears he could hear breathing around him, maybe a faint groan. He inhaled, smelled stale air tinged with sweat. He wiggled his fingers, trying to get a feel for his bindings, only for them to _twitch._ Brooks stiffened. Now he felt the stuff winding tighter around him.

"What is this?" His voice was raspy. He was starting to breathe very fast now, fighting the urge to panic. He needed to cut himself free somehow—had they left his knife on him? Could he even reach it?

The voice in his head spoke up again. "You are in no danger—"

"Shut it!" Brooks yelled. To his surprise, she did, so he turned his attention back to his bonds. If he twisted his head he could just about get the stuff over his shoulder between his teeth. It was smooth but squirmy, the way he imagined a very large worm might be. Ignoring the nauseating thought, he clamped down. The whole mass shuddered and loosened around his arm. He kept going, catching and biting more of the tendrils as they tried to ensnare him again.

Brooks was starting to slip now, the thought struck him that he didn't know how far down the floor was. He stopped biting, got a solid grip on the tendrils. Now he was able to kick loose the rest of them, start shimmying down. Fortunately it was only a meter or two before his feet found the floor. He stepped back, shaking off the last of the tendrils, and caught his breath.

Brooks still didn't know where he was, or who his captors were, but he knew he was not alone in this bizarre prison. He could still hear breathing. Cautiously, he began to follow the sound. Hopefully some of his squad mates were still alive—and the voice hadn't gotten to them.

* * *

Zanna stepped out of the elevator and into a nightmare. She'd chosen the button labeled ENERGY ROOM, so she'd expected glowing machines and computers. Instead she found a hallway covered in dense, stringy grey matter, like some kind of alien fungus. It was very dark, but a careful eye would reveal that the stuff was squirming with life. A faint, pale light pulsed through the tendrils, illuminating one cleared path down the hall.

"Nope," Zanna said, shaking her head and backing up. "Nonononononoooo. No thank you."

She reached back for the door. As her fingers touched metal she heard a shout, and she froze. Someone was in there. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out the gyroscope morpher. If she was going in there, she wanted a Ranger suit between her and the tentacles.

"Sands of Time, rise up!"

* * *

"Listen to me," Brooks said, fighting to keep his voice calm. "Whatever you think you're seeing, it's not real."

He was standing on his tiptoes, face-to-face with another soldier still trapped in the fleshy web. A roaming tendril started to wind around him, but Brooks smacked it away as soon as it brushed his hand.

"Brooks?" The man mumbled. "Calm down, we're safe. Here, sit down and I'll get you a coffee—"

"Allan, wake up! There is no coffee! We're in some kind of...alien nest or something, and we need to get out _now_!"

Allan sighed. "Brooks...Garfield, aliens aren't real."

Garfield let out an unsteady little laugh. "Okay, well, open your eyes explain what all of this nonsense is, then."

"My eyes are o—"

Garfield slapped him across the face. Allan jerked, eyes opening. The writhing tendrils woke him up the rest of the way. He screamed and immediately tried to break free. His struggles managed to loosen the tendrils enough that he fell forward, taking Garfield down with him. One thick tendril dragged out of the mass—it was attached to the back of Allan's neck and pulsing white.

"What is this? What is this? Somebody help me!"

"I am helping, stop shouting!" Garfield snapped, catching his flailing arms. He got smacked across the face before he could pin Allan down. Grabbing the last tentacle in both hands he twisted it like he was wringing out a wet cloth. It stretched and snapped in two with a _pop_.

All of the grey tendrils were moving now, making the walls ripple. There were other cocoons visible in the faint light, their occupants barely making a sound. Garfield scooted away from the wall he'd just freed Allan from.

"Right...one down, who knows how many more to go," Garfield muttered. He picked himself up and moved back towards the wall, arms extended.

Allan's yells had subsided into whimpers of fear. He lay curled up on the floor, staring at the writhing mass all around them—until a burst of green light made him look up. Another flash illuminated a human figure forcing her way through the mass.

Garfield barely had time to start freeing the next man before the cocoon unwound itself, dumping the soldier into his arms. He staggered back under the weight. All around them cocoons opened up their prisoners abandoned unceremoniously as the tendrils moved to block the intruder's path. Some were soldiers from Garfield's company, but many wore unfamiliar uniforms.

" _Now_ what's happening?" Garfield asked.

The other people were starting to come to. Some reacted the way Allan had, screaming and going into the fetal position, but not all. Some of them seemed like they weren't even surprised.

"Everyone calm down, we're not under attack," a voice rose above the clamor. The speaker was a man with a greying beard, standing up to get the attention of the other people. The green flashes illuminated three silver stripes on his uniform's shoulders. He started pointing people out. "Morgan, Bruce, perimeter scan, try to figure out where we are. You three, I want a head count."

As they scrambled to obey, Garfield set down his burden and approached the speaker. Crazy as this situation might be, there were still routines to follow, so that was what he'd do.

"You're the senior officer here?" He asked.

"Captain Wulfric, Hourglass Corps," the man replied. "You?"

Garfield saluted. "Private Garfield Brooks, RAF," he said. "We're with number 600 Squadron. I'm not familiar with Hourglass Corps."

"Most people aren't," Captain Wulfric replied. He came a step closer, looking at the bandage around Garfield's eyes. "You're injured?"

"I can walk and follow orders, sir," Garfield replied.

Captain Wulfric smiled briefly, clapped Garfield on the shoulder. "That's the spirit."

One final green blast fried the remaining tendrils and the Green Hourglass Ranger stepped through the opening, holding her revolver.

"Are you guys okay?" She asked.

One of the Hourglass soldiers spoke up, though she didn't seem sure whether to address Zanna or Captain Wulfric. "Fifteen alive, six need assistance walking."

"I think we're still in the Facility." That was Bruce, back from the perimeter check. "The portals might still work."

"There's a button that says 'portal room' back on the elevator," Zanna said, gesturing back the way she'd come.

"Everyone pair off," Captain Wulfric ordered. "The other Akra will be here soon."

"There are _more_ of these things?" Allan asked shakily, as one of the soldiers helped him to his feet. As if in response, an alarm began to sound. A boom echoed down the hall towards them.

"If we survive this I'll give you a full debriefing," Captain Wulfric said. "Hurry."

The ragtag group scrambled back up the hall, Zanna in front with her gun and Wulfric bringing up the rear. Before Garfield could even ask for help, he felt someone wrap his arm around their shoulders.

"Doing all right, Brooks?" Hsien asked.

"Oh, just so-so. You?" Garfield asked, trying not to sound too relieved.

"Been better."

The grey Akra recoiled from the group as they passed, still smoldering from Zanna's violent entrance. At the sight of the elevator doors the group sped up. The alarm was louder now, a pulsing blare that set everyone's teeth on edge.

Allan was the first one to hit the button. Nothing happened. He pushed it again, then three times.

"Why won't the doors open?" He demanded.

"Maybe if I shoot it—" Zanna started, but Wulfric cut her off.

"We're in lockdown The power's been cut to the elevators. The stairs are this way."

This time he took the lead, making a sharp left. The door wasn't visible at first, hidden beneath a rippling grey wall, but Wulfric seized two handfuls and yanked down. Unlike the rest of the doors in the building, this one wasn't automatic, just hinges and a knob. Wulfric held it open as the others filed through.

"We're on the third floor," an Hourglass soldier said, pointing out the number on the back of the door. "Portals are on the sixth."

"Get going!" Wulfric yelled, though there was no need. The cluster of survivors were already running up the stairs. The lights flickered and died, but the pack barely slowed down. Clangs and thuds filled the stairwell.

As they reached the fifth floor, however, red light spilled down into the stairwell. Those in front stopped up short. Garfield tripped over someone's legs and nearly took Hsien down with him. He wasn't the only one. Everyone was going in different directions, the entire pack turned into a knot of stumbling bodies.

"Get up! We're almost there!" Wulfric waded into the mess, pulling people up and apart. "Move! Move! Move!"

Then the stairs in front of them exploded. Concrete rained down on them. Screams and shouts filled the air. The metal bannister clanged against the wall like an alarm bell. A dark red shape dropped through the cloud of dust, landing with a boom just in front of the pack.

Garfield reached back, and to his relief Hsien gave his hand a squeeze. They were both okay. Zanna, relying on her suit, had thrown herself between the blast and the group. She hadn't been able to protect everyone, though. Two of the soldiers were wounded, sobbing in pain and clutching broken limbs. Three more lay unmoving under chunks of rubble. Allan was one of them.

The dust settled. The red figure grew visible, and even the wounded fell silent, staring. Standing before them was the same man who'd killed Una. Now he was completely armored from the neck down. His broadsword was sheathed on his back. Red veins pulsed faintly through the metal of his armor.

Wulfric stood up unsteadily. He met the stranger's gaze.

"Seth."

"I wasn't expecting you guys to get here this fast. I'm almost impressed. It's a waste of everybody's time, but at least you're trying." He glanced past Wulfric at Zanna and frowned. "Didn't I already kill you?"

"Uh, no?" Zanna said.

"Oh, you're a replacement. Whatever. Can't be much harder than the last one."

"What's happening?" Garfield breathed. "Who's talking?"

"I don't know," Hsien whispered back.

Seth clapped his hands together with a clank. "Lucky for you guys Mom really wants to keep you alive, so I'm going to give you the chance to surrender right now. Trust me, you'll be better off this way."

Silence. People exchanged glances. Even the ones who didn't fully understand what was happening knew that they were _not_ going back to that room under any circumstances.

"You're not wearing a helmet," Wulfric said.

Seth blinked. "What?"

"You really should have." With that, Wufric sucker punched him square in the nose.

"RUN!" He yelled as Seth reeled back.

Everyone ran in different directions. Hsien scrambled backwards, and Garfield lost his grip. A boot caught the back of his head and he hit the floor. Zanna nearly dropped her gun scooping up one of the wounded. A couple of the bolder ones went forward, hoping they could jump the gap or find a door behind Seth. His sword flashed as he cut them down.

The survivors half-ran, half-tumbled back down the stairs. They had no other choice. Nobody was guiding them now, they just ran, hoping to find some way out. Zanna made up the rear guard, herding people down. Garfield crawled until he found the wall and stayed there, not wanting to get trampled.

On the floor below them a light flashed out from nowhere. This time the escapees managed to not fall all over each other as they stopped. A portal had opened up on one wall, wide and shimmering blue. Garfield couldn't see it, but he felt the same electric hum as when he'd been kidnapped. For about five seconds everyone stood still, not sure where to go. Then a golden-white Hourglass Ranger dashed out of the portal and yelled "THIS WAY!"

Garfield had no idea what was going on, but people were shouting "Isinia!" and they sounded happy. Then he heard armor clanking. Seth had finished off the other stragglers. His attention was on the crowd downstairs, flooding through the portal.

"You again?" He sounded scornful, and much closer than before. Garfield felt around with shaky hands. His fingers wrapped around a chunk of concrete. Hauling back, he threw it as hard as he could at Seth. It only dinged his armor, but it got his attention.

"What the—seriously? What are you, a caveman?"

Before he could take another step a volley of yellow and green lasers hit his side. Smoking and sparking, Seth stumbled backwards. Another shot square to the chest knocked him flat. The two Hourglass Rangers lowered their guns and raced up the steps. The portal snapped shut behind them with a flash.

"Good work, Una," Isinia said, crouching down next to Garfield. "Are you all right?"

"No, but I can walk." Garfield found her shoulder and braced, letting her help him stand.

"That's the spirit."

Zanna spoke up, sounding nervous. "Uh, I'm not Una. She kinda died." Isinia froze. "…I'm really sorry."

Garfield cleared his throat. "Uh, is that Seth person dead? Because if not we need to move."

"Right." Isinia led them back down the stairs, but she kept glancing back at the pair. When they reached the bottom, she turned to face them.

"Normally I wouldn't ask this, especially on such short notice, but would you two be willing to continue fighting the Akra? Not here, tracking down the ones already outside in their own little realities."

"You mean like, keep using this suit?" Zanna asked.

"Yes."

"Yeah. I think I owe you guys for saving me," Zanna said.

"Er, I'm blind," Garfield said. "I mean, if I can have whatever she has I'll take it, but I don't know if I'd be much help."

"You stood up to Seth. That's more important—and you wouldn't be the first blind Ranger either."

Garfield shrugged. "All right then. Not like I have anything to go back to anyway."

"All right. Pocket Dimension!" A loop of that same bronze cord Zanna had found with the morpher materialized in Isinia's hands, and she reached inside. "Blue Gyro Morpher!"

Seth sat up on the floor above them as Isinia passed the morpher into Garfield's hands. Unclipping one of the silvery laser pointers from her belt, she fired a portal onto the wall. "It's not safe for too many of us to be in the same place at once, so I'm afraid you'll have to figure most of this out on your own. Good luck, both of you."

Seth had picked himself up now, bleeding from a gash on his forehead. He reached the head of the stairs in time to see the portal closing behind Zanna and Garfield.

"You'll pay for this! I don't care what happens to the stupid timeline, we'll stop you, you stupid dog!"

Isinia just waved at him and opened a portal beneath her feet. She was gone before Seth was made it halfway down the stairs. Red energy flashed in his pupils, shooting down through his armor. He screamed and punched the wall, cracking the concrete.

* * *

Man, it's been a long time! I've finished school, I have an awesome job, and I finally have the creative energy to write again. This chapter took such a long time because I wasn't sure how to go about it-there were so many possible ways I could have the characters get their morphers or manage the escape, especially with such a big crowd. But at last we're done, and I can worry about the next hurdle: writing the Akra as actual Monsters of the Week this time, not just Mary Sue parodies. I'll see you...hopefully sooner than a year.


	3. Chapter 3: Breathe In

The portal deposited Garfield and Zanna into a cloud of smoke and dust. Sunlight blinded Zanna and she staggered, demorphing in a flash. Garfield contented himself with falling over on the pavement.

"…We're outside, right?" Garfield asked at last, pushing himself up on an elbow. "We're not still in that maze? The blob monsters are gone?"

"Yeah, I think so," Zanna said, blinking rapidly. Her eyes watered.

Garfield slumped back in relief, bumping against a chunk of concrete. He tried to catch his breath, started coughing.

Zanna's eyesight adjusted, and she stood up, looking around. They had landed in a completely different scene of destruction. Overhead battered buildings sagged downwards, bleeding smoke. Some had collapsed altogether. Around them lay chunks of concrete, twisted metal supports, glittering glass shards. Something was on fire nearby, giving the air a chemical taste. Visible through the haze were figures in orange and yellow and white. First responders, probably.

"I think we just missed a Zord fight," Zanna said.

"You say that like I'm supposed to know what that means."

"You don't know about Zords?" Garfield couldn't really give her any sort of look, but the expression he made still said "Really?"

"Sorry. A Zord is a giant robot. Rangers—people like us—use them to fight giant monsters."

"…You know what? I'm just going to accept that," Garfield said weakly. "After everything I've been through today, I really have no reason to be skeptical of anything. The giant robots are gone, though, right?"

"Yeah, it's gone."

"Good enough."

Zanna crouched down beside him, finally getting a good look at the man who'd accompanied her. He didn't look much older than she was, even with the blond scruff on his chin and what she thought must be some kind of uniform. Both of them were covered in a fine layer of concrete dust, though it was starting to smear now. The bandage around his eyes was becoming increasingly dirty and tattered.

"Are you feeling okay?" She asked, brushing his hair back so she could check his forehead. He flinched at the touch.

"How do I look like I'm feeling?"

"Not good?"

"Not good."

"I think there are some EMTs over there," Zanna said. "Do you think you can make it over there? I'll help you."

Garfield groaned, but gathered his legs beneath him. "I hope you're older than you sound."

"What?"

"Just give me a hand."

Zanna grabbed his hand to pull him up, but Garfield was heavier and taller than she was, and she had to snake an arm around him for support. He clamped down on her shoulder, making her yelp in pain. Recoiling he swung his other arm out for balance, and nearly dropped the Gyro Morpher he was still clutching. That almost tipped both of them over, and the whole mess started again. Eventually, with a lot of apologies and reassurances to not worry about it, it's fine, they managed to find a good position, Garfield's hand on Zanna's shoulder and her arm around his back in case he fell. Thus they began to pick their way through the debris toward, hopefully, help.

* * *

Most of the rooms in what had been Hourglass HQ looked the same; white and chrome, rounded walls. The private quarters were mostly unaffected, and now Seth sat in a beanbag chair, scowling at the TV past the icepack on his bruised face.

The door slid open, and the same blonde woman who had talked to Garfield entered. Looking at the two side by side it was obvious that they were closely related. Twins, in fact.

Seth looked up. "Well?"

"Mom says we can't afford to waste any energy on a superficial injury."

Seth threw the icepack at the wall. "Come on, Sophie! Am I really supposed to go out and fight like this? I almost broke my nose!"

"We have to find the Hourglass Rangers before we can fight them. If you feel like helping out there we could certainly use it."

"We know where _one_ of them is for certain," Seth muttered.

Sophie sighed. "Even if we tracked Isinia down to Gruumm's ship that's not going to change what she was able to do before we found her."

"So? We'll still stop her from whatever else she's planning," Seth retorted. "Why is it so important to leave her alone? Why is 'the timeline' so important right now when Mom already added herself to every single Ranger team?"

Sophie spoke in clear, clipped tones. "In _her own_ universe. Not this one. We do not have enough power to alter _this_ timeline, especially with Time Force still around. If you're that worked up, just go find a pocket universe and kill that Isinia."

Seth got up and retrieved his icepack. It crunched as he squeezed it. Sitting back down, he chuckled a little. "Do you really think Mom would let me waste time and power on that when she won't even let me fix my face?"

Sophie's irritation faded. "Fair point. We do have aspirin and stuff around here if it's really bothering you."

"I've had some already. Wait, is that safe for us?"

Sophie shrugged. "Dr. Rose didn't say it wasn't. I guess if you start getting bloody noses or feel lightheaded let her know."

"Okay, whatever. How about the other two? How did that girl get ahold of the Green Gyro Morpher?"

Sophie looked pensive. "That's the weird part. According to Dr. Rose, she's a Host. One you rescued from the last Green Ranger, actually."

Seth nearly dropped the ice pack. "What? Why?"

"No idea. She seemed pretty lucid when Dr. Rose talked to her. How was she acting during the fight?"

Seth's voice was sharp with sarcasm. "Well, she shot me, so I'd say she was pretty hostile."

"I mean, was she panicking or under some kind of influence? Did she seem like she understood what she was doing?"

The beanbag crinkled as Seth leaned back, thinking. "She was confused, definitely, but not in a disorganized way. She was trying to protect the rest of the guys escaping and she followed Isinia's instructions, as far as I could tell."

"That's what I thought. I went to the Power Room and it looks like she cut her way in to get to them," Sophie said, taking a seat on the bed. "Which means that for some reason she's turned on us."

"It's a rogue Host. We've still got her Akra safe," Seth countered.

Sophie seemed half-talking to herself, not really looking at Seth. "But the whole point of pairing them up was that they wanted the same thing, right? To be a Power Ranger, join the Lightspeed Rangers, be somebody important. Why would she just walk out on that?"

"I guess we'll have to ask her when we find her. Shouldn't take long, we'll just track the morphing energy again."

Sophie shrugged, made a weak attempt at a smile. "I guess. It's just hard to wrap my mind around, you know?"

"It's way easier if you just don't care about it," Seth suggested. "You can leave all the scientific stuff up to Dr. Rose while we finish the mission. Then we can get back to _our_ timeline."

Sophie's smile became just a bit more genuine. "Yeah. That'll be nice."

Seth lowered his voice. "Honestly, I liked Mom better when she didn't look like a teenager."

"It _is_ kind of weird, but hey, would you want to hunt evil Rangers in a 40-year-old body?"

"She doesn't have to look 40, it's just weird to call a girl your age Mom!" Seth protested. He seemed so incensed Sophie had to laugh.

"Yikes, okay, point made. I promise I won't tell her you said that," she added mischievously.

Seth pointed a warning finger at her. "You'd better not."

"Oh? Or what?"

"Or when we get back I'll tell Sky you have a crush—"

"Really?"

"—on Piggy."

"…he wouldn't believe you."

"But what if he did?"

"Stop it."

"All I need to do is push the thought into his head…" Seth was grinning wickedly at her now. She threw a pillow at him, which he swatted away easily. "Knowing him he'd nobly step aside so you wouldn't be forced to choose."

"SHUT UP!" Sophie yelled, her face bright red. The argument devolved into laughter and throwing bedding.

Several floors down, the Akra Queen was bent over a jar containing a blue Akra. She paused and smiled to herself. Out of courtesy she generally didn't listen in on her children's thoughts, but she could sense their mood. Good, they deserved a break. They probably wouldn't get another one soon, with the amount of work they had ahead of them. Taking down Hourglass Facility had been a great victory, but now once more they had to worry about four Hourglass Rangers.

"Well," she said to the blue blob, "Let's make sure you're prepared for them if they turn up."

* * *

"What's your name?"

"Garfield Brooks."

"Any allergies?"

"Uh…no, I don't think so."

The voice was male, an American accent, speaking in gentle tones. "Do you remember what happened?"

Fire. Smoke. Explosions. Glass shards. White flashes. Pain.

"No."

"Do you know where you are?"

"No, sorry."

"It's okay. What year is it?"

"2007."

An awkward silence fell, and Garfield realized that the portal that had dumped them here might have also transported them through time. Oh well, they could just assume he'd had a concussion. He might have had one anyway, come to think of it.

"How are you feeling?"

He resisted the urge to say _How do you think I'm feeling?_ There was a jolt, the ambulance going over a pothole he imagined. Garfield had tried to refuse the ride, told them that they should save it for someone who really needed it, but they'd insisted. One of the EMTs had said there weren't that many serious injuries anyway, but he had no way of knowing if that was true.

"I have a headache. My face hurts. I think I'm running a temperature."

Someone was unwrapping the bandages around his face now; he felt warm air on the pink, new skin over his wounds. A gloved finger prodded at the skin next to his left eye, and he flinched.

"Yeah, we're going to need an ophthalmologist for this." The voice was directed away from Garfield now. He thought he could hear a plastic wrapper crackling. The EMT was back a moment later. "I don't want to risk damaging your eyes any further, Garfield, so I'm going to tape pads over them and we'll have a doctor do a closer assessment. Keep your eyes shut."

Garfield let him, and when the EMT suggested he try to relax, he lay back on the stretcher without complaint. A slim hand wrapped around one of his; Zanna, who hadn't let go of him until the EMT asked for space. Garfield didn't know if she was trying to comfort him or herself, but he appreciated it. Kept him from feeling completely alone.

He dozed for a while after that. There was a bit with a needle and some jostling around but it didn't seem all that important. Them waking him up to get his signature was a bit of a challenge, but they reassured him that he didn't need to be neat. He might have made a joke about doctors not judging anyone else's handwriting, or maybe someone else had said that? He didn't know. Hopefully someone else since he was pretty sure he'd laughed and laughing at your own jokes was for losers.

When he finally woke up he felt a lot better. Cleaner, for a start. His grimy uniform had been swapped for hospital pajamas. His head felt clearer, too, less feverish and achy. He still felt something soft against his closed eyes, and the slight tug of the medical tape holding pads and shields in place over them. Other than that, he felt what he thought might be an IV needle taped to his left elbow. He reached up with his right arm to feel his face. Someone had also covered the healing wounds on his face with gauze. Felt patchy. He wondered how they'd heal up and whether they'd be the cool, mysterious kinds of scars or the "I need a mask to hide my hideousness" kind.

A voice spoke up from somewhere on his right, and he recognized it as Zanna's. "Hey, are you feeling better?"

"Yes, actually." His voice came out rough and he cleared his throat. "That wasn't very convincing. Yes, I feel better. How are you?"

Oh, that sounded lame. Zanna didn't seem to care, though. She kept on talking in the same tone.

"I kind of got a nap while you were out so I'm okay. The doctor said that they were doing an x-ray of your eyes and call an eye doctor to look at them and maybe they'd do surgery to see if they could fix them. It Other than that you were just really dehydrated and you had a fever."

"Have they asked about identification yet?" Garfield asked.

"Yeah, they did, but I don't have a driver's license or even my purse and they seemed like they got that you might not have your ID in your pocket either. I think they're going to look up your dog tags. Is that a thing people can do?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Garfield lowered his arm. In the stillness he could hear the faint sounds of movement somewhere outside the room. It must not be very busy after all if they could put him in a room all to himself. Something else to be grateful for; this conversation probably wouldn't have gone so well in a group ward.

"I don't think they x-ray eyes."

"Huh?"

"I said I don't think they x-ray eyes. Just bones."

"Oh. Then I guess it was the other thing. The big magnetic tube you go inside."

"An MRI?"

"Yeah, that. Oh." Garfield heard her moving, then felt her hand near his, pressing something small and cool to the touch into his hand. "They kept your stuff and I figured you should have your morpher."

Garfield traced his thumb over the device. Three concentric rings made of cool metal, two gimbals to form a gyroscope. The axis of the center ring was a little glass tube that tapered in the middle. He flicked it and it started spinning, letting out a faint, high-pitched hum.

"So…you seem to know more than I do about what's going on. With the Akra."

Zanna took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay. Right. Where do you want me to start? I don't know how much you already know."

"Not much." Garfield adjusted the pillows, propped himself up so he could talk properly. "What is a Power Ranger and what exactly did I just sign up for?"

"Well, Power Rangers are just like superhero teams. Each one has a different color—Red is always in charge—and they fight monsters and save people. They get these special suits and weapons and giant robots using morphers—those are the necklace things we got. To transform you have to spin it and say 'Sands of Time rise up' and then you're morphed. I think most of the stuff works by saying its name and then it shows up."

"Sand…so what I'm feeling here is an hourglass?" He asked.

"Yeah. Yours is blue so I guess that makes you the Blue Ranger. I'm the Green Ranger."

The way she talked about colors seemed significant, but Garfield couldn't guess what they meant. Rank, maybe? He thought back to the brief conversations he'd heard during their escape. "Back in that building you kept being mistaken for someone else, someone you said had died."

Zanna shifted again, her voice regretful. "Yeah. There was a different Green Ranger before me. Seth killed her."

"Did you know her?"

"Uh…that's complicated. Kind of? I mean, she was around for a couple of weeks at least, maybe months, but she was pretending to be someone else the whole time."

Garfield found the chain of the Gyro Morpher and looped it around his neck. The gyroscope rested against his upper sternum. "Right. And why's that?" Zanna didn't say anything. "Hello?"

"I started in the wrong place, I think. So those guys back there? They're called the Akra. They're…I want to say aliens, but they're actually from Earth. We kind of made them."

Garfield sighed. "Of course we did. Typical."

"Huh?"

"Where I'm from—what I think is the future—we pretty much destroyed the world with a computer virus."

"You mean Venjix? That's actually an alternate reality. I mean, alternate from the reality where I'm from. I don't know exactly what universe we landed in so it might not be an alternate reality of _here_ …"

Garfield tensed up at the name Venjix, but his expression quickly shifted back into bewilderment as Zanna rambled. Now he interrupted her.

"I'm sorry, an alternate reality?"

"Well, yeah."

Garfield wondered what the doctors had given him while he was unconscious. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be helping him process all of this new information.

"Are you going back to sleep? Because if you're tired I can stop talking," Zanna said.

"It's just…a lot to take in," Garfield admitted.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm still not totally sure what half of this stuff does," Zanna admitted, and Garfield heard her moving again.

"Can you be more specific?"

"Well, there are these tools that came with our morphers that are supposed to help us. Normally Power Rangers would get Zords—giant robots—and weapons and stuff but I think most of our equipment is for nonlethal combat, since it's kind of a rescue mission along with a monster fight."

"You mean like what just happened to us? Busting into some kind of mad scientist lab and rescuing people from those blob cocoons?"

"…I think I'm going to need to keep explaining stuff for a while. Are you comfy?"

"Comfier than I've been in a while," Garfield said, shifting around to face her, lying on his side. He propped up his head on one hand. "Maybe you should finish telling me that story of yours."

* * *

 **Hey, guys, it's been too long! I do plan for the rest of the story to come out much, much more quickly than the starters-I've got goals and rewards and other stuff that should help, but feel free to pester me since some outside accountability is always helpful. Things should pick up again quickly action-wise but I figured the characters needed a breather at least.**


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